Wanting the Darkness
by Shenya
Summary: Thoughts of a certain hikari also going by the name Malik. Dark, and if it's romance, it's very twisted one. Suffering, pain, blood, tears, what more can he do?


DISCLAIMER: Don't own the characters, and probably the non-existent plot isn't even original *sigh* But I felt like writing it, so don't sue me, okay?  
  
Umm... This is really short and pointless, but I was in the mood after being awake the whole frickin night so here it is, a Malik POV... Brought to you by Shenya - who got it from a couple other authors, who she wishes won't mind having this idea duplicated yet again. And if you haven't read them, go check my favorites list, you'll find some of those there...  
  
Wanting the Darkness  
  
What holds us together? The darkness? The light? A sometimes balanced, sometimes dangerously tilted mix of those two elements?  
  
Really, aren't they the complete opposites... So how can they mix? I don't know. It just is so. It's like a law of nature, light and dark, hikari and yami, they belong together forever and ever and ever. I don't think we could be separated, we'd die if we were... I can't imagine the pain I'd go through if he weren't there every single moment of my existence.  
  
He's always there, commenting on what I do, laughing in that deliciously crazy way that he has - he's fucking hot when he does that! Mostly I hear that laughter when someone's in pain... When that someone isn't me, that is. If I'm hurt, he'll just come out and kill whoever was responsible for it. He's cute like that. Not that I'd ever call him that to his face. That would be suicide. But then again, perhaps not, he might just get all affectionate again. But that's the thing, with him you never know.  
  
Sometimes he will come out when he sees something that fascinates him. He'd be all excited, clapping his hands, laughing, dancing, drawing me into the enjoyment with him. It's something I wouldn't do if he wasn't there to urge me on - to celebrate how someone has a knife stuck on their stomach, or have a deliciously broken hand with bits and pieces of bone sticking out. He loves blood. Why? I don't know, but he does. And he thrives on pain.  
  
When others would be lost in it, lying on the ground, unconscious, he just keeps laughing that sexy laugh of his and continues whatever he's doing. That's something to admire. That's something to look up to and follow around and kiss oh-so-gently when he's feeling like it.  
  
But I need to be careful, he doesn't feel like it all the time. Most of the time he's just plain psycho, fighting and killing and plotting, trying to bring more darkness to the world. He wants darkness to consume everything, so it would resemble the way he is. He wants to have blood and pain and utter lack of emotions, other than perhaps madness and rage and dark feelings like that. What's so wrong with that?  
  
Yes, first it shocked me. It shocked me to realize that _I_ could feel like that. But... he isn't really me, is he? Not the way I thought him to be. I mean, he is me, yet he isn't me, and we are one and we are separate and we hate each other and we love each other and sometimes we just despise each other so much we try to kill the other inhabitant of our shared body.  
  
It never works. Why is that? Because no matter how hard we try, we cannot kill ourselves. That is one 'why' I don't know. Just one of them. There are so many things we don't understand about light and darkness, so many things we could be missing because we didn't know it was possible. So we try to explore. What can a united light and dark do together? Surely it's not just fucking each other senseless? So we explore and explore and search and read and have an adventure and fuck some more.  
  
When he feels like that, that is. If I'd try to do anything when he doesn't feel like it, he'd just ignore me at best. Or perhaps it's not the best, I enjoy it when he turns his attention to me, no matter for what purpose. I'm weird like that.  
  
But then again, I probably couldn't be called normal in any way. My yami even less so. My yami is rude yet polite - how he manages that, I don't know - and he's crazy yet sane, he's like royalty, the way he acts is plain amazing, and in a weird way he is both darkness and light. I don't know how he manages to be like that... I'm jealous.  
  
If he has both darkness and light in him already, where does he need me? Am I completely useless? No, he answers from the depths of my mind. I am his, he is mine, and every time he feels like it he can turn to me for support and strength and light, and to just speak with me when everyone else is afraid of him and run away and he's feeling all hurt and sad and he desperately needs me to understand him and to fuck him when he finally feels better.  
  
He comes out to emphasize his point, hugging me tightly so I can't breathe and making me feel all fuzzy inside. Who gave him permission to do that to me? I don't want to feel mushy, I want to be depressed. Depressed, depressed, depressed, pretty crimson blood flowing down my arms and smearing my soft hair. My yami likes my hair. He toys with them when I'm asleep. I know, believe me. He can keep nothing from me. Or can he? Is he so twisted I can't understand him anymore, and he really doesn't care about me at all and wants nothing but to get rid of me?  
  
He murmurs something against my throat, drags his hot, wet tongue against my bare skin and moves his hands boldly across my body. Yes, he doesn't need any permission to touch me, I'm his anyway, he doesn't need to ask for permission to use something that is his property. His to plunge into darkness whenever he feels like it. His to touch and to kiss and to pet and to fuck whenever he wants to do so.  
  
I have a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. He's so possessive, he 'knows' for a fact that I'm his so it must be so. I have no objections, he's me after all, how could I deny something from myself? But then again, he's not me... But it doesn't matter. Nothing does, but his tanned hands doing wonderful things so my mind bends and his hot mouth searching and his soft little tongue licking all the blood and tears away.  
  
How could I care when it's so wonderful that I can't breathe when I'm his? 


End file.
